


Howl

by itishawkeye



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2087334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itishawkeye/pseuds/itishawkeye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Isaac are thrown together by Mrs. Bridges' tutoring program and now Scott may have a new appreciation for geometry. There's something about Isaac he just can't put his finger on... and soon they both may have problems a little more complicated than math class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

 Scott McCall was absolutely most definitely undeniably not into guys. Just ask Allison or Kira or even Lydia. They could all confirm that he was very very into girls.

 But then there was Isaac.

Isaac with his stupid grin and his stupid curls and his stupid laugh. Shy, tall, sensitive Isaac who sat in front of Scott in geometry and tapped his pen on the desk when he was thinking.

 Isaac with his soft lips...

 Okay. That was enough.

 Scott turned back to his paper and stopped starring at the back of Isaac's head. He really hated geometry. He knew that if he didn't pass this class then he would be stuck in summer school. No matter how hard he tried to understand the formulas and shapes they made no sense to him.

Isaac stopped tapping his pen and began scribbling furiously on the paper. He had obviously reached an understanding on how to calculate the answer. Scott thought about asking him for help but quickly rejected the idea. Scott wasn't into guys after all, and a study date seemed a little like a couple thing to him.

The bell rang, and Scott stuffed his binder back into his bag. He was about to head out the door when the teacher's voice reached his ears.

"McCall, hang back a moment please."

Scott groaned internally and stepped out of the way so his classmates could make it to their next classes. Mrs. Bridges, the geometry teacher, was a plump, kind looking young woman who's personality was the exact opposite of her looks. Her demeanor was cold and her standards were very high. She was the type of teacher to assign 50 problems a night and an essay on the weekend.

 She eyed Scott disapprovingly. "You failed the last three tests."

 "I know, Mrs. Bridges. I'm sorry. I've been trying really hard but I just can't get the material," Scott replied.

 "If you've been trying _so_ hard then you must've already found a tutor.”

 "Um... no. No I haven't," Scott mumbled.

"Well then, I guess you could try a _little_ harder. There will be a tutor waiting for you in the library after school on Tuesdays," The teacher told him.

 "But I'll miss lacrosse practice!" Scott exclaimed.

 "Mr. McCall, if you fail this class you will not be on the team at all. Understood?"

"Yes, Mrs. Bridges. I'm sorry." Scott said.

 "I'll write you a pass. And don't dilly dally. You wouldn't want to fall behind in _another_ class, would you, Mr. McCall?" Mrs. Bridges asked.

 "Of course not, ma'am."

 

Scott walked into Biology to discover that they had started a lab. He handed his pass to Ms. Martin and grabbed his apron and goggles before heading over to his usual seat beside Stiles.

 "Dude, where were you? I thought I was gonna have to do this lab alone. You know I refuse to use the Bunsen Burner. That shit is dangerous," Stiles rambled when Scott sat down.

"Sorry, man. Mrs. Bridges is making me get a tutor.”

"Who needs a tutor?" Lydia asked as she sat down at the station across from them, Allison behind her.

"Scott," Stiles informed her.

 "Geometry?" Allison questioned, pouring a beaker of something into a beaker of something else.

 "Mrs. Bridges just hates me," Scott mumbled.

"Sure she does," Allison said, rolling her eyes.

 "Geometry is simple," Lydia argued while writing down notes about the lab.

"Easy for you to say. Everything is simple for you," Stiles pointed out.

"Whatever." Lydia said. “It’s not my fault everyone can’t be as awesome as me.”

 "Who is your tutor?" Allison inquired, ignoring  Lydia.

 "I don't know. Mrs. Bridges told me to meet them in the Library after school on today."

"After school today? As in during lacrosse practice after school today? That after school today?" Stiles babbled.

 "Yeah..." Scott replied, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "That today."

"No. No no no no. No! You _cannot_ skip out on lacrosse practices, dude! You're totally the front runner for captain once that douche bag Jackson- sorry, Lydia -leaves for England," Stiles exclaimed.

"Yeah, I know dude. But what else can I do? If I fail I'll be off the team. Kira can hold everything together while I'm gone."

Stiles scowled. "I still don't like it.”

"Me neither dude."

 

 When school ended, Scott asked Stiles to tell coach his excuse for not going to practice and headed to the library.

He pushed open the heavy wooden doors and was immediately greeted with the overwhelming scent of Mr. Urshel's cologne. Mr. Urshel was the librarian, an older man that was very much stuck in his ways. Scott didn't like him much, so he turned immediately towards the book shelves to avoid him.

He looked past the encyclopedias towards the tables where kids normally sat and did homework. They were all empty except for a familiar mop of curly hair.

 Scott knocked over a stack of books as he realized who it was. Isaac's head turned and he waved at Scott shyly. Scott smiled in attempt to hide how nervous he had just become and leaned down to pick up a book.

Isaac stood and walked over to help him. He kneeled down beside Scott and picked up a heavy copy of the H encyclopedia.

 "Hey, Scott.”

"Hi, Isaac. Are you um... here to..."

 "Tutor you?" Isaac filled in. "Yeah."

“Okay cool. You um… you like geometry?” Scott asked, stumbling over his words.

“Not really. My dad would kill me if I got a bad grade, though.  Mrs. Bridges likes me and I don’t want to get on her bad side for obvious reasons so… tutoring it is. Not that I mind helping you because you know you’re really nice…” Isaac rambled, reminding Scott of Stiles.

Scott chuckled, feeling much more at ease.“Well I’m glad I have someone like you to help me. Geometry just doesn’t click for me, you know?”

“Yeah. We should probably get started,” Isaac said, glancing at the clock. “I’m sure you want to get back to lacrosse practice as soon as possible.”

“Yeah. You um… do you like to come to the games?” Scott asked as they headed back towards the table, where Isaac has laid out several books on geometry.

“I’ve been to every single one since my brother was in the high school,” Isaac replied.

“I didn’t know you have a brother,” Scott said, sitting down at the table.

“Y-yeah. His name was Camden.”

Scott got stuck on the word _was_ and decided it was best to drop the subject. He pulled his binder out of his backpack and opened up to his geometry notes. Isaac smiled weakly and opened his text book.

“So, what exactly are you having trouble with?”

The next forty five minutes were dedicated to math with a few lame jokes tossed in by Isaac. Scott has no trouble at all paying attention to Isaac, and by the end of the session a whole chapter had been cleared up. Scott reached over to help Isaac clear up the papers they had managed to scatter over the table during the session and their hands brushed. Scott blushed and Isaac pulled away quickly, tugging his sleeve down over his wrist. Not before Scott could see the nasty purple bruise was spread across it.

“Sorry,” Isaac muttered.

“Is your wrist okay?” Scott asked.

Isaac looked up, slightly startled. “W-what?”

“Your wrist. I saw… there was a bruise. Are you okay?” Scott spoke.

“Oh, that. Yeah that’s nothing. I just um… tripped. And when I went to catch myself I landed on it. It’s no big deal.” Isaac said easily.

“Are you sure? That looked pretty bad. Maybe you should get it looked at,” Scott advised.

“I um… I really have to go. I’ll see you next week,” Isaac blurted, picking up his bag and hurrying from the library.

Scott stared after him, slightly puzzled, before remembering that he too had somewhere to be. He rushed off towards the locker room so he could join in on the last hour of lacrosse practice.

He made it out onto the field in fifteen minutes. He joined the game but he couldn’t get Isaac off his mind. Scott was still picturing the startled look on his face when Scott has seen his bruise when he missed his third goal in a row. Kira gave him a look that said something like _what the fuck is wrong with you?_ and shook her head. Scott sighed.

“McCall!” Coach shouted, beckoning Scott to come to him.

Scott raced across the field to him, knowing he was in for it.

“You need to get your head in the game, McCall. Sit down, take ten, and then get over whatever girl broke your heart this time,” Coach demanded.

Scott sat down on the bench next to Stiles, who was still under doctor’s orders not to play since the whole hanging upside down on the porch incident.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?” Stiles questioned.

“It’s nothing. It’s just… do you know anything about Isaac?”

“Lahey? Not much. His dad owns the cemetery and Isaac works there with that Hale kid who graduated last year. You know, the one with the eyebrows and the awesome body? Man I miss him. I think he’s friends with Boyd’s girlfriend. You know, Erica?”

“Yeah. By that Hale kid you mean Cora’s older brother, right?” Scott asked.

“That’s the one. That whole family is hot. No wonder their house burned down.”

“Dude!” Scott exclaimed.

“What?”

Scott shook his head. “You know what, dude? I’m not even gonna say anything.”

Stiles laughed. “That’s probably best.”


	2. Chapter 2

Isaac threw his shovel into the back of the golf cart and jumped into the passenger seat. It had been a month since the back hoe broke and his father had still yet to replace it. His father claimed it was because of a lack of funds but the more cynical part of Isaac thought it was just another punishment.

Derek jumped into the driver’s seat of the cart and hit the gas, starting back toward the equipment shed. “That’s the last one. We still have an hour before work is officially over. What do you want to do?”

Isaac’s leaned back in his seat. “I really need some weed.”

Derek nodded. “Bad day?”

“We just dug five graves by hand, aren’t you having a bad day too?” Isaac pointed out.

“Fair enough. My stash is done for though. Do you have any?”

“Erica hooked me up. I knew I loved her for a reason. It’s in the truck” Isaac replied.

Derek turned away from the shed and pulled the golf cart up by the parking lot and the two of them climbed into Isaac’s dented up old truck. He’d bought it off Derek’s uncle, Peter for 900 bucks. Isaac reached below the seat and pulled out the weed, his bowl, and the lighter Camden had given him before he left for Iraq.

“Dude, what happened to your wrist?” Derek asked.

Isaac looked down and realized that his sleeve had ridden up. He tugged it back over his wrist.

“Why is everyone so nosey today?” Isaac replied before taking a hit. He passed the bowl to Derek.

“Wow. Someone’s angry. God I needed this.” Derek sighed.

Isaac made a noise of agreement and switched on the radio. Music flowed out from the speakers. A heavy female voice drifted into Isaac’s ears, singing words that Isaac couldn’t bother to actually listen to but was sure were very meaningful.

“Is this… Florence and the Machine?” Derek asked.

“Yeah. It’s called…” Isaac paused in an attempt to remember the name of the song. “Howl.”

“I like it. I can’t remember ever liking Florence and the Machine before,” Derek murmured.

“Maybe you just weren’t listening,” Isaac replied, blowing smoke out his nose.

“That was deep as shit,” Derek stated.

Isaac smiled and let out a loud and sudden laugh. “I should get high and write poetry. Become famous. Then I could leave. No more digging graves for me.”

Derek laughed at him. “What would you write about?”

Isaac took another hit. “There’s a boy.”

Derek groaned. “Of course there is.”

Isaac punched him on the shoulder. Isaac was known for having crushes on, well, everyone. Everyone from his English teacher to Derek’s younger sister.  “Shut up, this one is different.”

“Oh really?” Laughed Derek.

“Yeah!” Isaac defended. “He’s just so… good. You know? Like he wouldn’t kill a fucking spider. He’s got this stupid goofy grin that makes you feel like the sun shines out of your ass. He makes me nervous too. Like not the “oh shit I forgot to study for the test” nervous. Like happy nervous?”

“Fuck. You are so far gone,” Derek teased. “What’s his name?”

“Scott McCall. Bridges is making me tutor him.”

“McCall? Lacrosse star McCall?”

“That’s the one.”

“Shit,” Derek said.

“Yeah,” Isaac agreed.

Isaac’s phone rang, cutting through the sweet chords of Florence’s music. Boyd’s picture lit up the screen and Isaac swiped the answer call button. Boyd had been taking Erica on a date tonight. Erica had been secretly gushing with excitement about it all week.

“Hello?”

“Isaac. Erica’s back in the hospital,” Boyd sounded like he’d been crying. Which was a funny picture. Big lacrosse player Boyd crying. Isaac didn’t laugh though.

“Was it another seizure?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah. It lasted twelve minutes. It was the first-“ Boyd stopped and took a deep breath. “It was the first one I saw in person.”

Isaac let out a long sigh. “She’ll be okay. She’s Erica. She’s always okay.”

“Are you coming?” Boyd asked.

“Of course. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Isaac hit the end call button and pushed himself back up in his seat. It was upsetting how used to this Isaac was. He dug his keys out of his pocket.

“Erica’s back in the hospital. Can you take the golf cart back?” Isaac asked Derek.

Derek nodded, his dark eyes filling with concern. He opened the door of Isaac’s truck but he paused before he stepped out.

“Are you okay to drive?”

Isaac nodded.

“Get that wrist checked out while you are there. I don’t want to be the one doing all the work digging these graves,” Derek told him.

He jumped out of the cab and closed the door behind him. Isaac watched as he headed back over to the golf cart. Isaac closed his eyes and turned the keys in the ignition. The truck roared to life and he pulled out of the graveyard.

 

The drive to the hospital was short. Isaac wondered if they did that on purpose, putting the graveyard and the hospital so close together. He approached the front desk to ask for a room number, but was intercepted by Boyd on the way.

“She’s in this room over here,” he said, pointing to a door at the end of the adjoining hallway.

They headed down the hallway towards the door only to find Erica’s mother closing the door softly behind her. Her graying blonde hair was pulled up into a bun, her face was void of makeup, and instead of shoes she still wore her slippers.

“Mrs. Reyes?” Isaac addressed her.

She jumped, apparently she hadn’t seen them coming. “Oh, Isaac. I was wondering when you would show up. You’re such a good friend to Erica. Did you know Vernon, Isaac? He was wonderful at helping her through her episode.”

“Yeah.” Isaac replied. “Can we see Erica?”

“You’ll have to wait an hour or two I’m afraid. She needs to rest, you know the drill. But as I’m sure you are very aware, they have a very comfortable waiting room here. I’m going to head home and get the stuff we need. Would you mind staying here in case anything happens?”

“Sure, Mrs. Reyes,” Isaac promised. Isaac liked Erica’s mother. She was gone a lot, but he knew Erica understood that it was only to help pay for meds and hospital stays like this one. Isaac knew Erica’s mother cared about her a lot.

“Thank you, Isaac. And you, Vernon,” Mrs. Reyes said as she walked back towards the main entrance, her slippers making a shuffling noise on the floor.

Boyd glanced at the door Erica was behind and Isaac ignored the tears coming to his eyes. He started back down the hallway toward the waiting room, dragging Boyd with him. The hospital was especially busy today and the nurses’ station, which sat just in front of the waiting room, was buzzing with activity.

A kind looking nurse stood to the side of the front desk, writing on charts while talking to a boy who was pushing a brown paper bag towards her. Isaac didn’t recognize him at first, but soon he realized that it was none other than Scott McCall.

“Shit,” Isaac muttered, turning away. He was still in his work clothes, covered in dirt and sweat, and his eyes were still red-rimmed from the weed. This was not how he wanted his crush to see him.

He wasn’t fast enough though. “Isaac!” Scott called, waving him over towards him.

Isaac sighed. It would be rude to leave now. He turned back towards Scott, walking towards him and the nurse. Boyd trailed behind him.

“Hey, are you here for your wrist?” Scott asked, and Isaac was surprised to see genuine worry in his eyes. “You tore out of the library kind of fast and I was worried about you.”

Isaac blinked in surprise. Scott was worried about him? “Uh… no. I’m sorry I left like that. I was late for work. But my wrist is fine. I’m just here for my friend…she had a seizure.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry. Is she okay?” Scott inquired.

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. We were just waiting to see her,” Isaac explained.

“That’s good. Well, while you’re waiting I you should get that wrist checked out? My mom could do it for you?” Scott said, pointing back towards the nurse he had been talking to.

Scott’s mother looked up from her charts. “Is something wrong with your wrist, sweetie?”

She reached to touch his arm and Isaac hissed at the contact. Digging graves all afternoon had not helped it, but he knew that he couldn’t let Mrs. McCall look at it.

“No, it’s fine,” He said, trying to sound reassuring.

“I don’t know, sweetie. If there’s something wrong it could be serious. Just let me take a quick look, at least wrap it up?”

Isaac thought about what Derek said about doing all the work. It was just his wrist. One injury wasn’t suspicious. Maybe just this once, he would let someone take care of it.

“Okay,” He agreed reluctantly.

“Scott, why don’t you go sit with Isaac’s friend in the waiting room, and I’ll take care of him over here?” Scott’s mother said, leading Isaac toward a small exam room.

Isaac sat down where Mrs. McCall told him to, and placed his wrist on the table so she could look at it.

“So, Isaac, how did this happen?” She asked.

“I tripped and landed on it wrong,” Isaac lied, recalling what he had told Scott earlier.

“How come you didn’t want to come in and get looked at?” She inquired.

Isaac was beginning to think this wasn’t such a good idea after all. He wasn’t comfortable being asked so many questions. What if he answered wrong or slipped up? As much as Isaac hated his father, he was terrified that Mrs. McCall would find out that it was Mr. Lahey that had hurt his wrist. If he was taken away, he would lose his home, everything that reminded him of his brother. He might never see Erica or Derek or Scott ever again. And as twisted as it was, Isaac still loved his father. After all, he hadn’t always been like this.

“I uh… I don’t really like hospitals, you know? I guess I’m just stubborn,” He replied.

Mrs. McCall nodded, and finished up wrapping his wrist. Isaac breathed a sigh of relief when she bought his answer.

“I suggest that you get this x-rayed, but this is better than nothing. Try not to stress it too much, either,” Scott’s mother told him.

“Thank you, Mrs. McCall,” Isaac said.

“It’s Melissa, please,” She smiled.

Isaac nodded. He examined his wrist, which was now wrapped in a tan bandage. It defiantly felt better. “Thank you,” he said again.

There was a knock on the door and Scott appeared from the hallway. He grinned at Isaac. “Your friend is awake. Boyd went to see her but he said she asking for you.”

“Okay,” Isaac nodded. “Thanks, Scott.”

“No problem, Isaac.”

Isaac headed towards Erica’s room, passing Boyd, who was trying to get his snack out of the vending machine, in the hallway.  Erica was sitting up in bed, her eyes were tired and her skin was pale, but otherwise she looked pretty chipper for someone who had just had a seizure.

“Took you long enough,” Erica said as he entered the room.

Isaac smiled and crossed the room to sit in the chair beside her bed. “I was only waiting on you.”

“Is Boyd okay? I know it was the first time he ever saw it for real.”

“Yeah he’s fine. A little freaked out but no more than expected. I think he’s just glad that you’re okay.”

Erica smiled at him. “I’m glad you’re here Isaac.”

Isaac took her hand. “Me too.”

Erica frowned at the bandage wrapped around his wrist. “Isaac, what happened?” She fussed.

Of all the people Isaac cared about, Erica was the one who had noticed the most bruises. Isaac cursed himself for not being more careful. One day soon he would run out of lies to tell her.

“It’s nothing. I tripped and landed on it wrong. A nurse looked at it for me,” Isaac soothed.

Erica shook her head at him. “You need to be more careful.”

“I know. It’s the late shifts at the graveyard. I always trip over the smaller headstones.”

“I don’t know why you work that job. The hours suck. Plus graveyards are creepy.” Erica said.

“My dad would kill me if I quit. He says I need to earn a roof over my head and a warm plate of food for dinner,” Isaac reminded her.

Erica frowned. “You can earn it working somewhere other than his spooky-ass graveyard.”

Isaac shook his head. “He doesn’t see it that way.”

Erica sighed. “Speaking of dear old papa Lahey, I’m surprised he let you stay out this late to see me. He’s usually so strict about curfew.”

Isaac crinkled is brow in confusion. “It’s not that late.”

“It’s already eleven thirty,” Erica informed him.

“Shit. Sorry, Erica. I have to go,” Isaac said, kissing her on forehead and rushing from the room. “I’ll try to come visit you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Good luck, Isaac. I’m sure he’ll understand.” Erica called after him.

Isaac knew he wouldn’t.

 

Isaac spent most of the trip home trying not to think about what was waiting for him when he got there. He pulled into the driveway and considered just hiding it truck all night, but he knew that would only make it worse. He turned off the ignition and prayed to god that his dad had passed out before he could realize his son wasn’t home on time.

But of course he couldn’t be that lucky.

He closed the door behind him as quietly as possible. Hoping he could head up the stairs and into the safety of his bedroom without seeing his father. He made it half way up the stairs before he heard the booming voice behind him.

“Isaac.” His father said. “Do you know what time it is?”

Isaac cursed quietly and turned around to face his father. “I know it’s late, dad. I just lost track of time. Erica was in the hospital again and I was just really worried.”

His father shook his head. “You know you have a curfew, Isaac. 10:30 should have given you plenty of time to visit your friend.”

“I know, it’s just her mom had to go get some stuff and I promised I would stay with her.”

“No more excuses, Isaac. You missed curfew. You need to be punished.”

Isaac sighed and stepped down the flight of stairs to his father. Who grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and led him towards the basement door. He could smell the alcohol on his breath. It was going to be a long night.

The basement stairs creaked under his weight, and the light overhead let out a whine when his father flipped the switch. He paused as he reached the bottom step, and his father took the opportunity to push him to the floor. Isaac landed hard on the concrete surface, agitating his already bruised side. He could feel blood on his forehead, which surprised him.

His father was usually much more careful about avoiding Isaac’s face and other places people could see. But he’d been slipping up lately. Forgetting to let Isaac out of the freezer in time for school and hurting obvious place like Isaac’s wrist.

Isaac was brought out of his thoughts when his father kicked him in the stomach.

“I don’t ask much Isaac,” he was saying. “But you can’t even follow the simplest instructions, can you?”  

“I’m sorry,” Isaac cried desperately. “I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

 “Always next time, isn’t it, Isaac?” He retorted.

 “Please,” Isaac begged.

“Get up!”

Isaac struggled to his feet. His father pushed him towards the freezer. Isaac tried to hold his ground. He had hoped that tonight his father would spare him the freezer. Mr. Lahey shoved his son forward, holding open the lid of the freezer.

“Dad, please.” Isaac tried.

“Get in.”

Isaac knew there was no point in arguing any more. He clambered into the freezer and tried to hold back his panic at the lid closed above him. He heard the sound of his father climbing back up to the kitchen. And then nothing.


End file.
